Tempered Immortal

“Okay!” the bald monk nodded and was about to intensify his efforts, suddenly rising together and slanting towards him.

It turned into a warehouse, but after all, Brother Bald Head had reached the stage of condensation, naturally it was impossible to hold hands, his face flashed a little, his hands pinched, a magic came from his body, turned into an ink python, turned over to greet him.

Spike...

Magic swallowed, the spirits sparkled, and the bald monk had no blood on his face. Obviously, he had suffered a lot this time.

Once the old man was stunned, he had to show a little hesitation on his face, but eventually he was naked and parked next to a bald monk.

Of course, the reason he did so was not to talk about morality, but because of the situation today, the two of them fled separately and had to die without a doubt. On the contrary, if they could join forces against the enemy, there might still be a chance.

This man is a medium-sized Brother of Geldan, who has weighed the advantages and disadvantages in a moment.

Reaching out his hand and patting it on the storage bag, a glow of summer flew out, and after a circle, the light converged, revealing a black iron turning.

Even more unambiguous, the bald monk slapped his chest and sprayed a small banana fan out of his mouth.

On the fan, the script flows, and this treasure seems remarkable.

When they looked at each other and simultaneously activated the protective mask, they had time to release their consciousness and look for the enemy's trail.

In terms of the intensity of the attack just now, although scary, it is clear that they are not former infantile monsters, at least not from the body, so they are not lifeless.

It's just, where is the enemy hiding?

In this poisonous fog, the consciousness was greatly restricted, and the two had to turn their heads, afraid that they would be attacked by each other.

“Oh, so... what's that?” The skinhead monk suddenly opened his eyes and said in horror.

When the old man stayed, he hurriedly looked over.

Originally, their soles were a soft swamp, but at this moment it was like a boiling soup pot, bubbling up.

The smell of a rotten corpse, scattered in the air, the faces of the two became ugly.

Now they know that it was the demons who attacked them, this horrible guy, who wanted to destroy them all?

The old man's eyes turned and his face revealed a few glamorous expressions: "My predecessors understand that the latter did not intend to break into your territory and would never dare to fight you. Please raise your hands and let us go. ”

“Yeah, seniors, we're just little groceries, and now there's a bit of an old baby monster, intended to be bad for you.” As for Lin Xuan's helper, he had already thrown him out of the Nine Clouds.

What's the point of being shameless as long as you can survive?

Unfortunately, it's a waste of effort in the end.

If the demon wants to devour the Golden Dane of two people and use it to enhance his powers, will he let them pass by foolishly because of a mantra?

The boiling corpse gas in the swamp, instead of weakening, became more intense.

Boo!

One thing rose in the sky, suspended in the middle of the sky, the two eyes set to look, but it was a big fight of ghosts, eyes like copper bells, blood basin mouth, unicorns on the forehead half a foot long, teeth like sharp blades, flashing palpitating cold light.

Exactly the body demon's split head.

Unlike Lin Xuan's extinct corpse, however, this ghost head was cultivated by him with one-third of his divinity. The strength of his divinity is far from being a regular gelden monk who can resist it!

Feel the horrible pressure from each other, their faces are getting paler!

“Seniors...” The old man flashed a little fear in his eyes and wanted to talk, but the ghost didn't want to slow down with him here.

In the orbit, the red flashes and a big mouth sprays blood from inside.

It's about half a foot long, slippery, like a living thing.

The old man was terrified and naturally did not dare to speak again. He busily pinched his hands and lit like a tap crutch in front of him.

Woo...

From that cane, a black and black wind dragon flew out. This is the old man who has worked hard for many years to cultivate his magic skills. Previously, he was always unfavourable to his enemies. This time he faced the devil of mutation, but there should still be no problem in self-preservation.

Just like that, the dragon has collided with the bloodstream.

First there was a loud noise, then the bursting sound of stir-fried beans began to come and go.

The old man's eyes widened and faced the festivities of blood, the dragon he had sacrificed could not help but be swallowed up a little bit.

What kind of magic work is this?

He had to take a sip of the cool air, and the former infantile demon was quite small, but never thought that a small distraction would be as powerful as that.

There are some hidden regrets in my heart, maybe it's safer to stay with Senior Li.

But having made that choice, we can only swallow bitter fruits now.

A loud drink, full of magic into the crutches, the magic surge, in order to live, the elderly can only try.

The bald-headed monk wasn't idle either, although he wanted to get away from it, but he also understood that doing so would only make him die faster.

After biting his teeth, Pharaoh ejected a breath of refinement before this man rushed.

Speaking of which, he was not tall, the basho fan was a treasure.

There's another story in it.

It is well known that after the immortal Jindan Dacheng, he will travel around the clouds, gather materials and refine the magic treasures he wants.

The process is very painstaking and the pharmacopoeia is much more precious than the appliance, so the materials are also very demanding, and it usually takes decades of kung fu to collect them all.

This is also the immortal of the Gateway!

And some scattered or small families, even if someone is fortunate enough to succeed in the coagulation, will not necessarily be able to gather all the materials from the refinery because of their shallow roots and their lifetime of poverty.

The fairy path is difficult, not only in practice, but also in all the necessary resources, especially grassroots fairy cultivators, which can be said to be difficult.

In the beginning, that was the case with the skinhead monk, who was a lonely widow, although by chance and with his own good qualities, he was suffering and fortunate enough to turn into a golden dan.

However, the bag is shy, and the next thing you know, you want to refine it so that it can suffer.

Start by cruising the islands of the Cloud Sea to find the materials you need.

Whether ore or precious crystals, however, the known veins have long been separated by various pieces.

Though he is a cloud-in-the-clock fairy practitioner, he is a lonely widow, weak and naturally has no way of competing with him.

Not to mention precious materials with special attributes, even if they are millennial copper refining common law treasures, he has been searching for more than a decade to get a piece of baby fist size.

My heart is sad, I don't have to say it.

In fact, if he had enough crystal stone, a lot of materials could be sourced from Fang Shi. Even if ordinary stores had no income, there would certainly be a lot of gains at the auction, however, that phrase was still... shy in the bag.

Depression is the only way to describe it, however, it must be frustrating to let one of its congenital masters use a psychic device.

So despite his faint hopes, he had to keep searching, going back and forth to the major islands every day, and sometimes even have to go deep and risky, hunting cloud beasts in exchange for the crystals he needed.

Years went by like a day, unconscious.

The harvest remains modest, and the skinhead monks are almost hopeless, yet what happens to the fairy world is full of unknowns, and sometimes an inadvertent decision brings with it an adventure.

On that day, he hunted down a second-degree demonic beast, but accidentally came to an abandoned ancient cave and found a skeleton deep in it.

The owner of the skeleton could no longer be tested and the skinhead monk was interested in exploring it, but the storage bags scattered around the floor made him happy.

In addition to the nearly 10,000 crystalline stones and some bottle jars, there is also a basho fan.

From the spiritual light it emits, it is obviously not a low-ranking Pharaoh, for God's sake, he is making a lot of money this time.

The skeleton touched gently and turned into ash smoke. Obviously, it was not known how many tens of thousands of years ago, and Brother Bald took the fan and checked it carefully.

With this ancient treasure, he is satisfied. Although he cannot be cultivated with his own dan fire, he can also use most of his power after following the Ghost Path Divine Spirit and feeding with fine blood.

Together with the unexpected crystal harvest, the skinhead monk can't say that his fortune is grand, but in terms of bulk repair, life is also very moisturizing.

I have a great future. How can I crash here?

Brother Bald's eyes flashed with a sharp color, his hands waved constantly, and a trick was worked out together.

And after absorbing his ejaculation, the fan rose wildly, the diameter was surplus, and the inscription on the surface became clearer.

“Huh?” The ghost was attracted to his attention, and his disgusting face revealed some astonishment.

The other person's fix is worthless, yet the fan looks powerful.

“Disease!”

In the face of strong enemies, the skinhead brothers did not dare to hold his strength, and his powers swept away. The treasure gently flashed, and two strange winds flew out of the fan.

They all have thick bowls, a pitch-black ink, a long distance away, and a hidden smell of smell.

The other one was miserable white, and the color was like a corpse fire, making people extremely uncomfortable at first glance.

Needless to say, power is very small.

The ghost also revealed a slight thickness, but soon the sarcasm appeared in the corner of his mouth. The treasure did have something extraordinary, unfortunately the user's modification was too low to worry about.

I saw the red flashes in his eyes. The big mouth kept chewing. There was an obscure spell hidden, intermittent...

Then he opened his mouth and sprayed a bouquet of purple mist from inside, and there was a sudden flash of corpse fire, and he hit the Yin Yang monster wind.

Silent, interwoven in three colors, the battle goes on and on, and the enemy is even, but it's just the surface.

Though the power of the Divine Spirit is similar, the power gap between the two sides is unknown, and soon the skinhead monk appeared unstoppable. (To be continued, please go to www.qidian.com for more chapters, support the author, and support authentic reading!)